They took the steps to the heavy door of the armory, Jotrem leading the way. The older inquisitive carried the hooked hammer. Soneste glanced at it, imagining the invisible impressions locked away like treasures inside it. What else might she learn with that power? It was one worth mastering.
She paused to see if anyone objected to the presence of Aegis, who followed several paces behind her. The people of Korth didn’t seem as hostile to him as some of the outspoken protestors in Sharn. In Korth, they didn’t seem to care about him one way or the other. The warforged was just a tool.
One dwarf stood behind the counter, while another tended the weapons arrayed on the walls. Soneste saw maces, swords, polearms, and more exotic arms-all gleamed as though polished and newly forged. Some of them possessed a faint shimmer, suggestive of magical properties. There was a single door behind the counter. Soneste could hear the faint ring of the forge beyond.
“Stay at the door,” she whispered to Aegis, who complied.
She needed to talk to the dwarves, but there was one customer in front of her, a man wearing a bulky, hooded cloak with a missing arm. He was hardly the only maimed veteran Soneste had seen in this city-or back home. A naked broadsword lay on the counter between dwarf and customer.
Jotrem moved forward to begin interrogating the dwarf, but Soneste held him back. “We can wait,” she said, irritated that the older inquisitive cared little for discretion.
“The Lions have already been through here, sir,” answered the dwarf, responding to a question she hadn’t heard. “Twice. Now, tell me more about your son.”
“He’s no Rekkenmark cadet,” the man grumbled bitterly. “Not so good with an honest blade.” His voice was raspy with age, yet curiously strong.
“Something simpler than this would be best.” He tapped the handle of the sword dismissively with his only hand. Soneste noted the man’s palm was wrapped in loose bandages. The fingers were exposed, lacking the wrinkles she’d expect to see on an older man.
The dwarf waited expectantly for his customer to go on, but the old man paused. He turned sleightly, peering beyond his hood as though realizing others waited behind him. His steely eyes met hers with a casual analysis, then darted to the hooked hammer in Jotrem’s hand and away again in a flash.
The old man-whom she was certain was not old at all-turned back to the dwarf without a hint of duress. Soneste exchanged glances with Jotrem. Neither of them, trained inquisitives, had missed the man’s look. He nodded back and placed his hand upon the hilt of his sword.
“Tallis!” he said, an edge of triumph in his voice.
The hooded man spun in place and threw the sword he’d been discussing with the dwarf out in the air. It spun wildly at Jotrem, who took a step back and ducked as low as he was able to avoid the blade. The hooked hammer dropped to the floor as Soneste drew out her rapier.
As Jotrem fumbled to regain his footing, the hooded man threw a small bag at the other Karrn. The shapeless object struck Jotrem at the waist, its surface rupturing into a mass of brown goo.
“Good to see you again, Jotrem!” The suspect’s hood had fallen away, and a shock of black hair spilled out. His face was far younger than his posture had suggested. In addition, a second arm had appeared from beneath his bulky cloak.
Everyone in the room exploded into motion.
The shopkeepers produced weapons with astonishing speed, though from their shocked, angry expressions it was unclear whom they would favor in this struggle. Jotrem was unable to draw his sword, his arm held fast beneath the swiftly hardened glob that had swallowed his hand, hilt, and belt. Tallis’s eyes swept the room, searching for an escape plan. Soneste had expected him to fight-was his history not one of constant violence? — so she advanced with her sword leveled at him.
“Surrender peacefully, Tal-”
“Murderer!” another voice shouted, and Soneste felt herself being pushed aside as Aegis barreled past her. He was still unarmed, but he braced the buckler of his arm like a weapon.
“Keeper!” Tallis swore then rolled himself backwards over the dwarves’ low counter. He landed lightly on his feet and stopped short before the stout shopkeeper who glared at him with a glowing mace in hand.
“Not here, half-elf,” the dwarf warned.
“I’ll settle up later!” Tallis said as he dodged past the dwarf just as Aegis reached the counter. Bolstered by his rage, the warforged crashed into the sturdy wood and reached in vain for his retreating quarry. Aegis’s arm shot out, preventing his massive, metal body from pitching over the counter entirely. The warforged was nowhere near as nimble as the Karrn.
Tallis jerked open the door and ran through.
The other dwarf approached Soneste and Jotrem with a hand axe gripped tightly in one fist. “What’s going on here?”
Soneste pointed to the open door and looked to the dwarf. “We’re with the Justice Ministry!” she said. “Is there another way out through there?”
“Yeah,” the mace-wielding dwarf spat, glaring at the door through which Tallis had retreated.
She turned to Jotrem, who struggled angrily to free himself from the alchemical glue. It was a tanglefoot bag Tallis had used against him, an invention usually used to stop an opponent from running. Tallis had come prepared to elude pursuers.
“Jotrem, make sure he doesn’t double back.” The older inquisitive looked incredulous at her words, but he was in no position to pursue the suspect. Besides, he’d only slow her down.
Soneste vaulted the counter herself and paused at the door Tallis had taken. “Aegis, go out the front and follow around. Take him alive!”
Without another word, Soneste dashed through the door in pursuit.
Tallis plucked the dart-size crossbow bolt from his shoulder, cursing as the pain revisited. Drazen had been right. He did need a new disguise, something to fool anyone who knew his face. For the first time since he’d known her, Tallis couldn’t wait to see the Midwife again. He’d appreciated her services before but had never needed them for himself. Until now.
Tallis had made his way through the back of the Bluefist, cursing all dwarves for their cynical nature. Every weapon in the back of the armory had been under lock and key, and he didn’t have time to fish around for any untended tools. He’d had to exit into the alley unarmed.
Two blocks away, the woman had nearly caught up to him. He’d led her in circles, always just out of sight. She’d expect him to disappear into the sewers or leave the district, but that wasn’t his way. After doubling back once, she’d grown wise to his strategy. When they’d faced each other across one street, he hadn’t expected her to take aim with a miniature crossbow.
Those little bolts hurt.
Who was this woman traipsing around with that old wolf, Jotrem? Not a Karrn, by the sky blue of her coat or her flaxen hair, nor any freelancing inquisitive he’d seen in Korth before. Despite the irritation she presented, he wasn’t ready to confront her yet.
If I don’t know you, we don’t deal, he thought. It was a rule. Not negotiable.
Tallis reached a small courtyard, an intersection between the tall, utilitarian structures of the Commerce Ward. He allowed himself to pause. No sign of her yet. He might have lost her this time.
When he’d gained the last roof, she’d started to climb as well. Even the White Lions seldom gave chase when Tallis rose above street level. It was usually a tried and true way to scrap the cats.
Tucking the bolt into a pocket of his jacket for later examination, he considered the three narrow alleys before him. To the left, he saw the market throngs of the main avenue. In thick crowds he could lose her, but she’d stirred up the Lions during their chase and they would be looking for him there. In front of him, the street would lead directly to the House Medani enclave-even less desirable right now.